


Winter can be warm too

by Marmottine



Series: A story of a Cat and a Bat [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Female Witcher, Full Moon, Implied Sexual Content, Isolation, Romance, Secrets, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-10-03 17:18:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17288216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marmottine/pseuds/Marmottine
Summary: What could happen to a female Witcher when she finds herself injured and forced to find refuge in an isolated house? Especially when this house is already occupied by a certain surgeon, not quite ordinary?





	1. Meetings

A house in the forest. A rather isolated house in this coarse winter where the thick snowy coat mantle kept it isolated from the nearest village. The muffled silence of the snow reigned around this humble wooden building, disturbed only from time to time by a bundle of snow falling from the branches, or by some animal seeking food before returning to warm up in its lair.

This silence was soon broken by footsteps crushing the snow. These steps were those of a young woman visibly in difficulty. These steps were irregular and the young woman breathed loudly, her arms clenched on her jacket soaked in blood. With a wandering gait, Moira sighed when she saw the house, hoping that the inhabitant of this house would not chase her away. In a normal state, Moira would have no trouble mastering a human or using Axii, but at that very moment, she was far too weak to defend herself.

"It's no use thinking too much now. I am soaked and emptying of my own blood. I should consider myself lucky to come across this house" she thought.

With a step more and more heavier, Moira walked between the scattered fir trees towards the house. Arrived at the porch, Moira knocked, no one answered. She pushed open the door, luckily discovering that it was not locked and entered.

 

The sun was starting to set when Regis returned from his pick. The harvest of mandrakes had been particularly good and he was already thinking of the beverages he was going to prepare.

Although still distant, he noticed the smoke coming from the chimney of the house - his house.

Intrigued but not frightened - it takes much more than this to scare a member of his kind - he continued on his way. In a short time, he had already considered several possible explanations: bandits, lost hunter, but what he saw while entering was very different and left him surprised.

A woman was lying on the floor in front of the hearth of the fireplace, where the last embers of fire were still being consumed. Although the room was plunged into near darkness he saw perfectly well and noticed that this woman was naked. Medium-sized, pale skin, the woman was curled up on herself. He saw - and smelled - the dried blood that covered her belly. The woman had probably applied herself a bandage on her wound.

With his medic aptitudes, Regis inspected the injured woman. Fortunately, she did not seem in danger of death, the bandage was applied correctly, and she breathed weakly but surely. Reassured, he wondered rather the multiple scars of the young woman: the cuts alternated with bites on the body of the young woman.

"Surprising. What kind of life this person has to have been attacked so many times? Even more surprising that she survived so many trials." He said to himself.

He tried to lift the women to move her to a more comfortable place, but she moaned in pain. He did not insist, not wishing to wake her up when she obviously needed a lot of rest. Realizing that she would certainly do not like to be seen naked in front of him when she will wake up, he went looking for a blanket in the next room and placed it on her. He also lit a fire in the fireplace, which had been completely extinguished in the meantime.

Once finished, he looked for a moment the face of the young woman. She must have been about 25 or 30, he thought, a time that was only a lash for him. His features were fine and despite the dark circles under his eyes and the marks of pain marking his features, Regis found her a noble air and a certain beauty. Strands of hair of a deep, warm chestnut surrounded her face, escaping from a tight braided bun.

 

Intrigued by the identity of the unknown, he began to look around for clues. In front of the chimney, lying on the floor dragging clothes, visibly put to dry in the heat of the hearth: trousers and hunting gloves of black and worn leather, a coarse linen shirt. He was more surprised by the presence of a warrior leather jacket. He examined it, this jacket was light and flexible, made to protect without losing agility or speed to its occupant. The equipment reminded Regis of a friend, a friend he had not seen for several years now.

His eyes left the jacket to fix on what was placed on the wall: two swords in their sheath were placed there. In contrast to the clothes left behind without care, he noticed the woman, although badly wounded, took the time to put them carefully so that they do not fall, these swords should be very important for her. The two swords were beautifully crafted. One was steel, the other silver.

"Swords of Witcher, sure. How did they come into her possession? Could it be that ..." He wondered aloud.

He also noticed a leather belt with some pockets. He hesitated to delve into their contents but he was driven by curiosity. He discovered a few small vials, mostly empty. He felt the contents of those full: "Potions" he deduced. He also found a purse apparently containing some money, and finally some letters. He began by unfolding one of the letters but curbed his curiosity and ended up handing the letter where he found it.

He stayed in the room for a while, what he had found as information posed even more questions than they had brought, the hypotheses succeeding each other in his mind. After a moment, judging that he would not know more tonight, he decided to leave the injured and go to bed. The answers would come tomorrow, only once the young woman awake.

 

* * *

When Moira woke up the next day, she noticed two things. The first was the flames of the hearth that had been visibly rekindled. She also felt a blanket on her, she did not remember this blanket but was not very sure, she was not at her best the day before ... Moira watched the flames for a moment, still lying down. She smelled of various herbs in the house, it was a second thing she did not remember either. Rather comfortably settled and not quite awake, she hesitated to go back to sleep a little, but the sounds of her stomach reminded her that she had not eaten a single thing since, how long exactly? Maybe 24h? When Moira straightened up, she heard a noise behind her, toward the table and chairs of the room where she had taken refuge. Covering herself quickly with the blanket, Moira turned around.

On one of the chairs around the table stood a man. The man was tall and thin. he had grey-streaked hair, a noble face with a crooked nose. He was looking at her with black eyes, shining with curiosity. When those eyes turned on Moira's eyes - yellow with cat pupils ones - he smiled, looking satisfied with someone who would say to you "I knew it!". For a moment the two looked at each other without saying anything, then wanted to speak at the same time. However, Moira was the most prompt.

"I did not come here to rob you. Just had no choice but to take refuge. Don't worry, I'll be leaving as soon as possible and I'll compensate you financially." said Moira defensively while trying to get up.

Once standing she wanted to grab her clothes to start to put on, but her legs began to shake, the head spinning. She sat on the chair closest to her, in front of him.

"How do you feel? In comparison to the state in which you were when I found you yesterday, you seem to have already recovered well, it's a good sign."

Moira was relieved of his reaction and touched by his solicitude. She was expecting rather a mistrust, to see being chased away unceremoniously. After all, when a person enters your home in the middle of the night without your permission, a person armed with two long swords, there would be something to be suspicious of. Besides, Moira noticed that he had no recoil or disgust when he saw her witcher's eyes.

"I have seen better days" she confessed.

"Please stay as long as necessary. It would not be a wise decision to leave now, especially with such an injury. The winters can be harsh and long in this region and you have already noticed that my house is isolated. You can imagine that I have rarely received visitors lately, so I am glad to have a charming presence. In the top of that, I am sure you have fascinating stories to tell me".

"It seems that I found someone who really likes to talk a lot," thought Moira, amused. Being herself rather taciturn, she was usually quickly annoyed by this kind of people, let say, voluble.

This was not the case at the moment, in fact, she liked his deep and soothing voice.

 

A new grunt of Moira's stomach stopped them there. Regis helped her to go to the adjoining room, which served as his workshop and where he had set up an extra bed. Then he brought her a simple but nutritious meal, which she gladly accepted before returning to rest. When she awoke, she noticed that her belongings had been cleaned of blood and placed beside her bed. Feeling better, Moira got dressed and joined him in the main room.

"Perfect, I see you look much better. But I think it's time to change your bandage, please allow me to inspect your wound ... " he started, before suddenly stopping.

"Forgive me for my lack of courtesy, I realize that I have not yet introduced myself. My name is

Emiel Regis, I am a surgeon in Dillingen, the neighbouring city."

Several seconds passed without either of them speaking. Regis staring at Moira, who didn't understand why until she realized he was waiting for her to introduce herself, too.

"I'm Moira. I was...hunting in this forest when I was injured." She replied, evasive. "I'm lucky to have come across your house. Thank you for your help, Emiel Regis."

Regis seemed to want to ask another question but changed his mind. After providing care to her, Moira insisted on helping him to be useful, though he repeatedly told her that it was not necessary, that she could simply rest if she wanted to. Moira, therefore, helped in the house with small tasks all day long.

 

In the evening, the two ended up in the main room to discuss after dinner. To be more exact, Regis was asking questions one after one to Moira, who answered. The beginning of the conversation was trivial. At one point Regis stopped, reflected, and seemed reluctant to continue. His eyes rested on the two swords of Moira, against the wall, before meeting the eyes of Moira again. This one guessed the question that burned his lips without him needing to ask, it seemed obvious.

"Yes I am a real witcher even if I am a woman, I know it is very surprising. I have been trained as my male fellows, I am a mutant, just like them. And I perform the same job of killing monsters. Like the one of the contract I accepted in this city of Dillingen. Unfortunately, as you see I

"underestimated" this beast."

"I know that my humble knowledge of your caste is limited, but I have never heard of a witcher women before, it seemed to me that schools have trained only young boys. Am I right? Can I ask you which school trained you?" He asked with enthusiasm.

At first a little reluctant, Moira ends up responding willingly. Without knowing exactly why she felt comfortable here in this house, she felt particularly comfortable with him. Perhaps it was his voice, the help he had been able to give him without asking for anything in return, or the humanity that was emerging from him. All this put Moira in confidence.

"You are right, schools only train young boys. My school, school of the Cat, is a little ...particular. Known in our caste for its unconventional methods, for their taste of originality. They were curious to know if little girls could stand the trial of the grasses and mutations just like the boys. They decided to test this theory and ... in the end, here I am".

Moira stopped her explanations there. She did not particularly have fond memories of her childhood at the fortress of the Cat School, especially about the masters. Moira was comfortable talking about herself, but rethinking these memories was not particularly pleasant.

"Are there many other witcher women like you?"

Moira scowled at this question and Regis only gets silence in response. Sensing that he had touched a sensitive subject, he did not insist. The conversation resumed on other more banal subjects, but quickly Moira could not hide a yawn, then another. Regis interrupted their conversation and suggested to go to bed, which she accepted willingly: she had not really rested during the day and could hardly hide her fatigue. The two wished each other a good night and split to go to bed.

 

Once settled on her bed, Moira did not fall asleep immediately. She wondered about her host. She wondered why this man had picked her up without hesitation, he even seemed sincerely pleased that Moira was there. She wondered how a simple country doctor had shown no fear in discovering her witcher eyes, this isolated region should not yet see many of them, much fewer women ones. Moira promised to question her host later, to know more about him. "Who are you really, Emiel Regis ?" was the last thing she thought before sinking into a deep and peaceful sleep.

 


	2. Moon and Mirrors

The next day Moira awoke early, noticed that she was alone in the house. After a quick breakfast, she returned to the workshop where she settled and took the time to look more closely at what was into it.

A long desk stretched against one of the walls. On one side of the desk was a wooden box containing many small vials. A mortar and pestle and several flasks were in the middle. On the other side of the desk were carefully stored several rolls of papers, inkwells of different colours and a feather. Moira noted a sketch of a plant, not yet finished, on one of the sheets. Several other sketches of herbalists, finished this time, were pinned on the wall, facing the office. Looking up Moira saw, drying on a rope hanging high, several tufts of different plants and braids of garlic drying. On the other side of the room on a library, were lined several books dealing with medicine. A skeleton of anatomy was placed beside it, Moira amused herself by seeing that Regis had dressed the skeleton of a hat and an iron gauntlet.

Regis found her a little later, watching an anatomy sketch on one of the walls. Moira explained to him that medicine was something she had always been interested in, but her knowledge of it stopped at what she had learned during her witcher training. They chatted for a moment, then Regis left Moira to read one of the books he'd recommended to her.

Moira read a moment but had to stop reading. Many locks of her hair had come loose from her bun and came to obstruct her view. She untied her hair, undid her braid. She looked for a mirror to arrange her hair but did not find one. Returning to the main room she inspected the four walls but did not find either. Seeing that she was looking for something, Regis asked her:

"Are you missing something, Moira? Maybe I can help you? "

"I'm looking for a mirror but I do not see any."

"Well, indeed you will not find mirrors here, I'm sorry, " he began before adding in an amused tone "I do not really use them ..."

"No need to apologize. I'll manage without it."

Moira quickly combed her hair with her fingers before attaching all her hair in a simple high ponytail, clearing her face.

"How am I?" She teased.

Regis looked at her carefully. The locks of hair that partially masked her face no longer there, he noticed a scar over her right eye on her temple. In spite of this, he noted for the second time the delicacy of her features. Unlike their first encounter, he was now seeing his guest's cat eyes and a smile on her face.

"You are a real beauty, Moira" he replied seriously.

"Thank you very much," she replied, not expecting such an answer "... but what about the hairstyle? Without a mirror, I do not know what it looks like."

"Oh! The hair of course. Yes, it's very good like that."

Moira escaped a little laugh, which she vainly tried to hide by coughing, leaving the house. "What the hell happens to me to giggle like a stupid girl," she reproached herself. She had of course heard his compliment and could not deny that it had touched her.

Once outside, Moira decided to cut some logs for the fire. Although spring was approaching, winter was still present and the heat of the chimney was more than appreciable. Through one of the narrow windows, she saw her host checking the different varieties of herbs and plants drying in the workshop. She paused for a moment to look at him, thinking back to the compliment he had given her. She also found him attractive. He did not, however, correspond to the canon of beauty that young women generally have - young, muscular men, with an angelic face ... But Moira found something else to her host: his noble air, his attitude - very gentleman. She found him a lot of charisma. And his eyes too, those black eyes when he looked at her intently. Moira had trouble leaving that look. Feeling watched, Regis stopped and met Moira's gaze. Cut off in her dreams, she smiled at him before resuming her task.

 

The days passed in the house. Moira and Regis learned to know each other, each stimulated by the presence of the other. Regis willingly shared his notions of medicine and botanist with Moira when she was curious. When questioning him, she learned that he had not always lived in Dillingen, that he had sometimes enjoyed travelling around the world for some time before returning. He was a curious man, who loved to discover new things and who seized the opportunities, the adventures that presented themselves to him. Moira appreciated his quality and understood it. She herself was constantly on the road, following the Path, letting herself be guided by the opportunities - the contracts in this case for her - without precise direction.

Moira told him about the adventures that had happened to her in her witcher's life. Initially not very expansive, unaccustomed to speak for herself, Moira quickly gained confidence and eventually answer more personal questions. He questioned her one day about her condition as a Witcher woman, the differences it implied compared to her male fellows. Moira told him people's mistrust when she went for a contract, people who though she was a weak woman who could not do the job. She had, in her early years on the Path, much suffered in her pride of this condescension, but had eventually get used to it and find the right words to convince the hesitant. But it took time, it took years.

"Forgive my indiscretion, but I'm very curious about your age, Moira."

"No problem! It does not seem like that but ... Let's say I'm definitely older than you, my dear Regis."

''I strongly doubt about this my dear ..." he replied with a mischievous grin, an amused gleam in his eyes.

"And yet I approach my 60 years. Rather well preserved for my age, no?" She replied, which made him laugh.

 

After about three weeks, a nice complicity had settled between them. Moira understood that what she was beginning to feel for him was more than just friendship. She was preoccupied with hesitancy about what to do. Did she have to restrain her feelings, knowing that she would have to leave this place soon, resume her journey, and not see him again? Or, on the contrary, take advantage of the time they were given here, both isolated, the winter separating them from the outside world by offering them this pleasant intimacy? This was the second option that Moira chose. In fact, it was not really a choice, she could not help it. For her part, she could not really tell if Regis's feelings were purely friendly or if he wanted more, too. She noticed, sometimes, the stealthy looks he was putting on her, it seemed to her that it was the same looks she was addressing to him.

Several times, Moira tried to get closer to him, attracted by him like a magnet. But every time she deflated at the last second. Unaccustomed to the game of seduction, Moira did not know how to go about it. In the past, there were few men who interested her, or who saw her as an attractive woman. The most common reaction was to see her as a monster, an unnatural mutant. The few men with whom she had been able to spend a good time were not looking for more - Moira neither.

There was an afternoon when Moira had gone hunting in the forest to bring back some venison for dinner. It was a piece of cake to bring back a rabbit or a pheasant, compared to the type of beast she usually hunted. Returning to the house, Moira had a radiant smile, her eyes sparkling, her cheeks rosy by the cold. The hunt had been good, she had brought back a superb pheasant that they could both enjoy, and she really liked hunting alone, enjoying the outdoors.

On entering the house, she saw no one. Moira found her host in the adjoining room, standing in front of the desk, visibly preparing an ointment made from various leaves. From behind, he had obviously not noticed the presence of Moira or was abstracting. She liked to see him so, focused on his task. She was seized with a desire to get closer to him, to touch him. She raised her hand but stopped her gesture, hesitantly. When she put her hand on his shoulder, gently, he turned around and looked at her, saying anything, smiling. Moira did not hesitate and put her arms around his back and hugged him. Smaller than him, she put her head against his shoulder, breathed a big puff of his scent.

His scent was similar to that of the house: a fragrant mix of different plants that he spent his time picking and preparing. She could smell the fabric of his coat. And finally his own scent, peculiar, it seemed to Moira to have already felt a similar scent but unable to remember where, being too weak and too masked by those of plants, much stronger. She savoured this moment, soothed, without moving. Regis put his hands on his shoulder blades, waited a few moments before saying, in a low voice:

''What a welcome! I wonder what I did to deserve such attention."

Moira was brutally aware of the situation, of her gesture coming out of nowhere. Embarrassed, she pulled away from him and tried to justify herself as best she could.

"I ... just wanted to thank you for what you did for me. To have welcomed me ... to have offered me your friendship."

"Please, Moira, at no time you did bother me." He started before adding, with a mocking smile "I guess it's not every day we can see a witcher hugging someone, I'm flattered. "

Moira laughed nervously, before quickly leaving the room. " to have offered me your friendship ... what an idiot," she said to herself, once outside, cutting out the pheasant. Certainly, she could be confident when she found herself face to face with a monster to fight, but when she found herself in front of people, and even worse in front of her own feelings, it was definitely another business.

 

* * *

One evening Moira was reading one of the books of the library, sitting comfortably in front of the fireplace from which the soft warmth was coming. The house was perfectly quiet until she heard the sound of glass behind her, which made it hard for her to concentrate on the book.

Turning, she saw Regis squatting in front of a locker containing bottles, obviously choosing one. She had learned in discussions with her host that he liked to make his own alcoholic drinks and he seemed particularly proud of his mandrake elixirs. He had explained that he kept his best bottles in this locker, the same one he was inspecting.

"A special occasion? " She asked him.

Regis thought for a few moments before turning to her:

"Somehow. To tell the truth, I was going to ask you if you would like to go with me to share this bottle together? " he suggested, pointing to the front door with his hand.

"What, outside you mean? By this cold? In the middle of the night? "

"Come on Moira, don't tell me you're afraid of the dark?" He mocked. "Don't try to trick me, I know that witchers have good vision in the dark. And anyway tonight ... Well, you'll see. You will think it's worth it, I hope so." he finished, staring at Moira.

Moira agreed with pleasure, intrigued, went to get something warm to put on before leaving the house. Once outside, Moira looked around. Although the night had fallen for a while already, a soft glow encompassed the whole landscape. She easily discerned the black trunks, spaced from the fir trees, contrasting with the whiteness of the snow on the ground. This snow still covered the landscape, although its thickness had diminished considerably since Moira's arrival, now being reduced to a few centimetres. Moira looked up and saw that it was the full moon. And what a full moon! Not one that can only be guessed by a gloomy glow through a thick cloudy coat, no. This night, the sky was perfectly clear with the exception of some transparent volutes, leaving the moon to appear, complete, magnificent.

 

"Are you following me, Moira?" Regis asked her.

Moira jumped slightly. She did not notice him, which surprised her because with her developed senses she usually perceived a lot of things. Looking at him, she felt her stomach tighten, it was not unpleasant. Regis seemed to blend perfectly into the semi-darkness that reigned as if he belonged to the night. The moonlight brought out the pallor of his skin in a delicious way. In comparison, his black eyes, locked on Moira, stood out even more and seemed to shine.

Moira followed him and they walked a little while in the forest. They soon emerged to arrive at the top of a clearing, which descended along the valley. A magnificent view opened on this valley where the snow seemed to glow softly. Above them, in front, shone the full moon. Regis noticed the broad smile on her friend's face and was happy with that reaction. He offered to sit on a fallen trunk not far away. Moira did not pray and sat next to him. The log was narrow, it was necessary to tighten, which did not seem displeasing to either.

"What do you think?" He asked, handing her a glass of the bottle he had previously chosen.

"I understand what you meant by "it's worth it" before. It's so beautiful!" She turned to him with a sweet smile "Thank you for sharing this with me Regis. "

"I'm glad you're here too. I like to watch the full moon ... it's a special moment for me. "

Both were silent, watching the sky, taking a sip of elixir from time to time, enjoying the moment. Moira was feeling so good right now, savouring that instant of intimacy with her mate. He was so close to her, his arm against hers, warming her gently despite the cold of the night. Little by little, she was less and less peaceful, the desire to approach her neighbour even closer was getting bigger and bigger. Fixing the moon, Moira did not dare turn her eyes to him, lost in thought. It was he who brought her out.

"Moira, I ..." he began, hesitantly.

 

She turned and saw him. He looked at her with a look of such intensity, deep. Faced with this look, Moira eventually lost her restraint. No longer thinking, she leaned toward him and put her lips on his, gently. His thin lips were cool but soft, their contact gave Moira tingling from her neck to the end of her fingers. Regis, hesitant at first, grasped Moira's shoulder with his hand, ready to disengage himself from Moira's body leaning over his. He finally let himself go and gave his kiss back to Moira.

She felt his body relax against her. Listening the impulses of hers, pleasant pulses on her belly, she suddenly tried to deepen their kiss, found the space of his mouth with her tongue. Feeling what she was trying to do, Regis suddenly broke their embrace and pushed her back violently, more than he wanted to do.

But he had done it too late.

Confused, Moira remained motionless. But it was not his reaction that put her in this state. During the very short moment when she had pushed their kiss further, she had felt for a moment, a short but sufficient moment, his teeth. Sharp teeth. "Far too sharp for a human" came to her mind.

A horrible doubt was born in Moira's mind. A new tingling ran through her spine, much less pleasant this one. Regis stared at her, looking hard, tense, lips clenched. However, when he noticed the face of his companion turning pale, the anxiety on her features, his eyes softened. He sighed and gently put his hand on hers:

"Moira, forgive me, I didn't want to offend you but you ... surprised me." he began before adding, with slight pressure on her hand: "Do not misunderstand me, I enjoyed this kiss. " The touch of his hand and his voice calmed Moira somewhat.

 _Oh, Regis. I'm talking about Regis, I must have been wrong_ she said to herself.

But doubt lingered somewhere in her mind. Moira took her companion's hand in hers and squeezed it, looking down at them. Her heart sank again at what she noticed. Regis's hands were perfectly normal except for the nails. Nails long and pointed enough, like drafts of claws.

Doubt struck Moira in full force. Vanished the soft heat that enveloped her a few moments ago. She tried to think but ideas came and went too fast to think calmly. Not wanting Regis to see her face decay, she turned her head to look at the other side of the clearing. A few scattered trees, as escaped from the forest, spread their shadows under the moon.

The shadows. That would allow her to chase away her suspicions, to sweep away this horrible idea.

"I'm going back Regis, I'm tired. We'll talk later, " she said to him without further explanation, fleeing his eyes.

She knew that if she crossed his eyes now she would lose her means. She withdrew her hand from his and got up. She did her best not to let anything appear of her anxiety but her breath was now fast, body tensed. Regis did not know how to react to her friend's behaviour and let her go. He was afraid of hurting her and was not sure how to catch up. Moira began to turn slowly, her heart beating, a lump in her throat. She sincerely hoped to see something that would remove her suspicions, which unfortunately was not the case.

In front of Moira laid a shadow and only one. From Moira's feet cast off her own shadow, docile, which was not the case with her companion. No shadows emanated from Regis. Moira had only a quick glance at the ground but that was enough. She hurried off towards the house, restraining herself from running, without turning once.

She knew now. Her host, her friend, the man she started to smitten with, was not a human. He was a vampire.


	3. Chapter 3

Moira arrived home in what seemed to her just a few seconds, ruminating her thoughts she had not lent a single moment to the environment around her. Once inside the house, she went straight to the workshop and closed the door behind her. With a mechanical gesture, she lit the few candles in the room with a snap of her fingers and sat down on the bed, her head in the hands.

_How could I not notice anything? What a pitiful witcher I am!_

Since leaving the clearing, a mass of various emotions swept through Moira one after the other. But at that moment shame invaded her, blaming herself. Some details she had completely missed, came back to her, their evidence hitting her like a slap. She remembered his own smell, which she had felt the day she had hugged him. She now knew where she had already felt something similar.

By several times she had had to fight lower vampires, something in their scent was similar.

Remembering their discussions, she remembered the words of Regis that she had not tried to understand - references to his age, the mirrors that were completely useless to him. Recalling the amused face he had taken each time, Moira felt her cheeks burn.

_What a naive, he had fun of this._

Moira stayed for a while, trying to inhale and exhale deeply, slowly. She hated being in that state where she let herself be controlled by her emotions, losing her coolness. After a while, her breathing exercises worked. Now that she was alone, without the presence of the object of her reflections besides her, she had more facility to calm herself. Moira raised her head, and staring at the wall in front of her, tried to expose the facts, to think with reason rather than with her emotions.

Yes, she knew now that Regis was a vampire, there was no doubt. But what kind of vampire? Combining the information she had in mind, and what she knew from her own knowledge, she quickly came to the conclusion that he was not a mere vampire inferior. Being able to take on a totally convincing human form - she had been completely duped - was far from being within every vampire's reach. Moreover, Regis was obviously a civilized being - much more so than many humans, Moira noted - endowed with emotions. When she finally concluded that he was a higher vampire, she could not help shivering at this idea.

With a bound Moira rose from her bed, and paced. She began to realize the situation in which she had run into. She had never personally been dealing with a higher vampire but knew very well how dangerous they were. The witchers, even the most intrepid, usually did not accept the contracts against this kind. They were far too dangerous for the bonus, as incredible as it is, to be worth it.

Knowing that Moira was even more puzzled by thinking about Regis. Why had he accepted to welcome her, the time she was recovering, so easily? He had always been generous and gentle with her, he had put her in confidence with a surprising facility. What was his motivation? Obviously, it was not for her blood, it had been several weeks since she was there and he had had plenty of occasions to harm her, especially when she arrived, very weak. If was not for that, for what else?

Still pacing, Moira began to feel oppressed in the small workshop. She stopped suddenly and went out. The main room was almost dark, hardly lit by a dying fire in the fireplace. Instinctively, Moira put her eyes on one of the two chairs around the table, where she had first seen Regis. This time there was only Moira in the room, alone.

_And now, what will I do? Regis will not be long in coming back._

This idea worried Moira, she had not really taken the time to think properly about it. She had to make a decision quickly before his return but did not know what to do. The first idea came to her by reflex, the most obvious solution for a member of her caste against a monster: confrontation. Moira turned back to her room again and grabbed the pommel of her silver sword before stopping, shocking her head.

"I can't do that..." She told aloud. Obviously, she could not try to attack him, she felt absolutely powerless. On the one hand, she knew that the members of his species were far too dangerous for that, even in full possession of his means a witcher would get away with difficulty. On the other hand, and this was the most important and obvious reason for Moira, she had absolutely no desire to hurt him.

The image of herself pushing her silver sword into his body came to her mind and repelled her.

She let the pommel like it was burning.

_Am I in danger here? I'm a fool living with a damn vampire, how I could be safe? On the other hand, if I'm not hostile to him, why would he suddenly become hostile to me? But… once he will know that I have guessed his true nature, how will he react?_

Moira sighed, coming to regret knowing the truth. She could not help imagining just a second the sweet moments that they could have spent together, simply the two of them, putting completely aside from their respective nature...

At a moment an idea came to her mind: _Am I obliged to tell him that I understood his nature?_

This idea crept into Moira's mind. She was basically aware that she would choose the easiest solution, to run away from the problem instead of confronting it, but the idea was attractive. She also told herself that it was a security matter - confessing to Regis was taking the risk that he felt threatened and eliminated her.

_I can keep this for myself tonight, no need to talk about it. What more would that change?_

_Nothing, it's his true nature that's how it is. I can keep it the time to get my things ready and leave tomorrow morning at dawn before he wakes up._

Joining the gesture to the thought, Moira went to start gathering her things. She listened, to hear if Regis had returned, but heard no noise in the house, or footsteps outside. It did not take much more than ten minutes to her, when she arrived she had little personal belongings. Beginning to feel exhausted, she undressed and went to bed.

Once lying on her bed, on the side, Moira felt satisfied to have managed to put aside her feelings to make a reasonable decision. Tomorrow she would leave and all that will be behind her.

That night was not very restful for Moira, she woke up suddenly several times, her eyes wide open on the ceiling, trying to notice the slightest noise that could announce the return of Regis. But each time, it was only a branch of a tree that cracked outside or the hoot of an owl in the night. Sighing, at once relieved and strangely disappointed, she ended up going back to sleep somehow. At one point, she saw the light passing through the gap in the shutter starting to become slightly brighter.

She got up and dressed as discreetly as possible, pausing from time to time to listen, but heard no noise at this very early hour. Moira was trying to focus on the common sense of her decision to leave this place, yet she felt her throat tighten, her stomach knotted as she glanced around the room to make sure she had not forgotten anything.

 _Come on, let's go now, this is time_ , she encouraged herself.

Arriving at the main door, she remained frozen, as if her body refused to obey. She felt tingling in her hands and realized that she had clenched her fists so tightly that the knuckles of the fingers had bleached, nails tucked into her skin had left her pink marks.

She could not tell how long she stayed there, more and more prey to doubt. Her belief in making the right choice was gradually fading, she knew that once this door is crossed, there would be no turning back. Regis's face returned to her mind, a whiff of emotion came to her. Moira took a step back and turned around. Instead of heading for the room where she was sleeping, she headed for the other door, which led to Regis's room.

Arrived ahead, not hesitating this time, Moira raised her fist to knock on the door. However, she did not have time to did it once when the door opened.

Regis was standing in front of her, the door handle in his hand. As if she had been stunned, Moira stood there, her fist still standing up in the air. Regis stared at her, his eyes went from her face to her outfit - fully clothed, wearing the satchel that she usually left in her room - before going to the two pommels of swords that protruded behind her shoulder.

"Moira, are you all right? "

Moira, in contact with his voice, seemed to regain her senses. Regis did not like the gloomy look she took, her lips tight, fleeing from his eyes, and did not like neither when she pulled away from the door without a word. Getting no answer he went out, taking a few steps in the room, looking around him. He glanced into the workshop through the door that Moira had left open -fearing that it would squeak- and found that all of her belongings had disappeared.

When Moira finally raised her eyes and met Regis's gaze, she read a note of reproach in his dark eyes. But what she was reading especially on his face was the disappointment. Moira felt bad at this sight, a sadness invaded her. She loosened her teeth and wanted to speak, but Regis cut her off before she started to speak:

"Moira. I saw I offended you last night, and I apologize, but I didn't expect you to react like this. I don't think it justifies such behaviour." he tells her, slightly upset.

Regis's remark struck Moira, who felt ashamed, lowered her head and closed her eyes.

"Is it really what you wanted to do, go out in a hurry without saying a single word? "

Eyes still closed, Moira felt two fresh hands rest gently on her cheeks, framing her face, lifting her head up. Moira opened her eyes and met his, their faces close to each other. She noted that the gleam of anger had disappeared from his eyes, only disappointment remained.

"No I don't," she replied in a breath.

She was divided between the desire to get away from him - she had not forgotten that she was not in front of a charming human - and the desire to put her arms around his body and tighten against hers. Feeling her still on the defensive, Regis ended up reluctantly letting her go.

"Of course, you are free to leave whenever you want, if that's what you desire. But please Moira, sit down for a few minutes and let's talk. It seemed to me that we were well... friends, at least. I don't want to be arrogant but I think I deserve some explanation. "

These words finally convinced Moira, who sat down on one of the chairs around the table. "You're right, some explanations are required." Moira thought. "Just a few minutes."

Regis regained his smile a little as she sat down. He told her that he was going to prepare an infusion for them and went to the workshop to look for some dried leaves.

Moira took advantage of this moment to reflect. Sitting, she put her face on the table and wrapped her arms around it. She began to regret the idea she had to leave without warning, without saying a word. Vampire or not, it was dishonest and cowardly behaviour. No, she did not want to smear the memories of their complicity by leaving like a thief.

 _But do you really have to leave him?_ whispered a voice in Moira's head.

 _Of course, Moira, you cannot socialize with a blood-sucker as if nothing were wrong_ , lectured the voice of reason, inflexible.

Certainly, the logical choice for her was to get out of here as quickly as possible. She had recovered for a while now and only stayed for her host's company. She could choose to spare him, after all no contract was on his head to her knowledge, but she could not stay with him.

But the voice of reason, as logical as it may be, sounded less and less in her since she saw him again. Even if she heard them well, the words of reason sounded hollow, empty of meaning. The evening of the day before came back to her.

_Screw you, reason! I can't deny what I'm feeling._

She sat up in her chair when she felt the vibration of the two cups Regis settled on the table in front of her. Both stared at each other intensely.

The time for explanations had come.

* * *

 

 

Regis was the one who started the conversation. Usually always voluble, bringing his questions in a roundabout and wrapped way, he asked her without detours:

"Why do you want to leave Moira? I mean, why so suddenly?"

"I just had to go. You knew I couldn't stay here forever. -" she answered, evasively, before adding "- I recovered from my injury since several weeks now, the time after that was only like sort of free time for me."

Regis, in front of this sensible answer, thought a few moments:

"I realize that surely our roads would eventually separate. You're a witcher and me just a simple country barber-surgeon. I'm actually rather surprised that you stayed here for so long, I thought you'd be bored quickly."

Seeing that she was not answering, he added: "I'm fortunate you stayed that long." "I am happy too, you know," she confessed.

She looked up at her mate, who was looking at her with his usual thin-lipped smile. She had a hard time believing that he was a blood sucker, who could be violent with her. Before she had time to think about it, she added:

"Regis, I know you're a vampire, not a human."

She realized what she had done the second she finished her sentence, the last words strangled in her throat. At these words, Regis took a serious look, focused at her. He leaned slightly on her side and noticed her outstretched body, eyes wide and hands clenched on the edge of the table, ready to rise with a start.

"Last night, I didn't bring you by chance to this clearing. I wanted to tell you the truth about me but, with your…well, enthusiasm, and then your precipitate departure, I didn't really have the opportunity to tell you. It was not –"

"So you really are one. You are definitely one." she cut him off, in a whisper.

"Yes Moira, I am a vampire. A higher vampire. It was not in my intentions to trick you, but you can easily understand that I don't reveal it to every person I meet".

"Of course, I understand…I'm not mad you hid this." She said, as much to him as to herself. She could see what he meant, she would have liked sometimes to be able to hide her nature of witcher, not to be treated as a freak.

"Is that why you left yesterday, like, please can you forgive me for the term, a fury? You figured it out what I am?"

Moira smiled, amused by his tone, always polite first and foremost.

"Yes, that's it. And don't apologize, I find the word "fury" appropriate."

Moira felt a weight fall from her shoulders. She wasn't especially enthusiast hearing him confirming the fact, but she felt relieved. She was happy to be able to talk to him freely. A big smile lit her face as she met her friend's gaze. For the first time, this one smiled to her also, not of his usual closed smile, but of a broad one, revealing his teeth. Moira barely shuddered at seeing his sharp teeth, it seemed to her that she had never seen him so serene.

Both drank a few sips of their infusion, silently. The first reason for their discussion came back to Moira, disturbing. For a moment she had forgotten her departure, yet imminent. She had the impression of having returned to a usual day in this house with him, drinking together after spending their day in various occupations. The minutes passed and less she wanted to get up from her chair. Yet Regis, after a moment, asked her, in a soft voice: "What do you plan to do Moira? Do you still want to leave now?" No. She did not want to leave. Not now.

"You are free to leave when you want, now, this afternoon, tomorrow ... I do not want to influence your decision."

"I don't know, Regis ..." she confessed.

Regis got up from his chair and approached her.

"Would you like to walk a moment, together? If I learned to know you well, what I dare to hope, I know that the fresh air benefits your mood. And I have to admit I have not had enough of our short discussion, I still want to talk a little more with you."

Reaching out to her, he finally added, with a smirk, "And if I may give you one advice, my dear, stop thinking too much."

Moira seized the hand he was giving her, gallantly, to get up. Once she was standing she did not let go of his hand, and took a small step closer to him, their bodies a few inches apart. She felt a tension rise in her, like the day before at the clearing, when they were both sitting on the fallen trunk. Regis looked at her, a cheezy grin on his face, guessing what her friend had in mind.

Obviously, it was not an innocent walk in the forest.

"Well, I am going to follow your advice, my dear Regis."

When Moira wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, he did not try to restrain her this time. He put an arm around her waist, pressing her against him, and with his other hand behind her neck, gave his kiss back to Moira, pressing his lips against hers. Moira felt delicious slenderness in her belly, from her stomach to her lower abdomen where it persisted, where it intensified when he started to deepening their kiss, exploring her mouth with his tongue. Moira interrupted it after a moment and said, always embraced:

"I realize now why you pushed me yesterday when it was me doing it…Now that I know what you are."

'Yes, I didn't really have the choice. Now, let me do it."

She let him do it with pleasure, savouring his touch, his taste, uttering sighs. Her hands, first stroking his neck, slowly descended on his shoulders and then along his arms until to grab his hands, which were caressing her lower back at this time. Placing a little more against him, she guided his hands lower on her own body, where he had not yet ventured. Once placed, she went up to her own hands along his chest, groped the first button of his shirt, trying to undo.

Regis stayed for a moment where Moira had encouraged him to descend, before pulling his hands up her back. However, he was quickly embarrassed by something placed in her back - "Her swords" he guessed. Stepping back, he teased his mate:

"Moira, is it really essential that you wear your swords? I understand that the swords of a witcher are almost an extension of their bodies, but I guess some difficulties to come if we continue on this path."

Moira laughed and picked up the swords from her back. Going to the wall near the fireplace to put them down, she stopped and without turning around, told half-jokingly half-serious:

"I do not know, can you tell me, vampire? Am I likely to need to use my swords?"

"As long as you are a good girl and don't try to rub yourself to my fangs again, no, you aren't."

Realizing that she was not completely joking, he added, "I'm not interested in your blood, Moira.

Initially, what interested me this morning was a good walk outside, but for the moment…"

Moira did not hear him finish his sentence. When facing the wall, she straightened up after carefully placing her swords, she felt his body hug her, his lips resting on her neck and running down it. This time his hands did not wait to be guided by Moira.

A house in the forest. A house rather isolated in this late winter, which was not so rough, where the snowpack still resisted, despite the few sprigs of grass that began to sprout in places, where the sun managed to hit between the pines' foliage. In the larger room of this house, two cold brew cups were on the table, obviously two people had never taken the time to finish their drink. Aside from these cups, the room was tidy, meticulously in order.

The disorder that reigned in the adjacent room, a bedroom, contrasted in comparison. Clothes left on either side of the bed, dotted the floor of the room. The owners of the said clothes seemed, at this moment, to have nothing to worry about the disorder of the room, the cold cups, still less the advance of winter outside.

The woman, when she has entered into this bedroom, has thought that she eventually was wrong to be afraid, that things were going well, naturally. But at this moment, this idea was no longer worrying her. At this moment this man and this woman were discovering each other, just happy to surrender to each other's arms, entirely. their only present preoccupation was to give the other back as much pleasure as they received, without restraint.

Just two lovers enjoying the present moment, without worrying about their nature, their future, or anything else.


	4. Winter

Later in the morning, the vampire was sinking little by little on an overwhelming wish to sleep and would certainly already have shifted to the other side if a brief but loud sound had not delayed him. However, this distraction was not enough to catch his attention, focused at this time to his bliss.

Regis had almost forgotten that his body could also be a source of joy and pleasure.

Undoubtedly, he was thankful to be back in the world of living beings. He didn’t need to push to remember how lucky he was to be back to life so quickly, he was fully aware of this. But what he had forgotten was the physical pain that came with each of his regeneration. In the beginning, pain so strong that he wanted to relegate its memory in a far hidden part of his mind. Even if the pain gradually vanished, turning into rather a discomfort than real suffering, he hasn’t met a real opportunity to enjoy his physical embodiment yet.

Until now. The first kiss they shared was a warm foretaste of what he tasted later. A moment of joy, sharing and connection, not only with his partner body but also with his own, like a manner to make up with himself and with his own injured material shape.

Both didn’t lack eagerness with each other, but one had plainly a healthier condition than the other. Even though Moira had been visibly and seriously wounded a few weeks before, Regis's injury was different, better hidden and slow to heal. So, although not regretting the past moments, it was time for the vampire to rest. And her solicitations would change nothing.

When Moira put the drained basin down, a sound was heard in the quiet room. Grinning, she turned her head and was reassured to see that Regis was still asleep. Repressing a chill - the room was cool, it was a busy morning so neither of them took time to re-light the fireplace - she went back with a quick, light footstep to the bed. The man, meanwhile, did not seem in the least disturbed by the cold and Moira took the opportunity to pull the blanket.

On his stomach, he barely grumbled when her weight fell on the mattress. This surprised her because the knowledge she had about the higher vampires-the serious ones, not the human folk ones-told her that they never slept deeply and could wake up in a split second. Which meant thinking to surprise them in their sleep was laughable.

Yet that was the case at that time. With a slight movement, she stroked his skin gently, without it making him react. She did it even more carefully when she arrived at an area where it had a different texture, such as an old burn scar. This sign, associated with his perpetually tired features, and this sleep as if it was sorely lacking it, made her wonder.

Was he sick? A sick vampire, she did not think it possible, but after all she did not think it possible either to be infatuated with one of them and yet …

She closed her eyes, wanting to fall on a pleasant sleep, but opened them again quickly and sighed. No, she did not think she could fall asleep, despite her tiredness.

First, it was intriguing to be in this room, where she had never been before. Previously occupied by other activities, she now took the time to observe around her this personal space. The room itself was nothing exceptional. In the semi-darkness, a few rays of light passed through the closed shutter and extended to the foot of the bed, illuminating in the air some dust that was falling softly, tirelessly. The few rustic dark wood furniture that furnished the room would have been quite common and unworthy of Moira attention if they had belonged to another house. But belonging to this one the witcher let her mind wander for a while on them imagining Regis getting up, opening the large big wardrobe and choosing his clothes. Still well buried under the blanket, she did not want to get up and check, but she was sure that her companion should not have many different clothes.

She imagined without a lot of trouble a series of clothes, darken coloured, at first sight simple but which elegance was in the details: a complex floral pattern on a long dark green shirt with silver buttons, a series of parallel seams on a sleeveless black jacket, a satchel of quality leather, although worn, which rarely left Regis on his outings and exhaling the smell of the various herbs it contained.

At a glance, she checked the absence of an element he had spoken to her: indeed, here no longer no mirror ornamented the walls. An amused grin appeared on her face.

Being the only one awake in this room next to the sleeping man had something both soothing and intimidating at the same time. She had the impression of penetrating her intimacy, oddly more than having shared carnal relations with him. And she had to admit it was pleasant so she turned to him and prolonged that moment out of time, gently running her fingers through his hair.

Unaccustomed to idle for a long time and not being able to go back to sleep, Moira finally decided to use this free time to be useful, got up and got dressed. Feeding and lighting a chimney fire, emptying and washing the cups of tea they had never drunk in the end, occupied her somewhat. As she opened the door to see if her companion was awake, she smiled, thinking of the similarities of this situation to her arrival, where Regis had been watching as she spent her time sleeping.

Leaning on the doorpost, she wondered what would go on now? The moment they had spent together was it a mistake? Maybe, maybe not, even if it were and nothing else would happen after that, well, it would have been a nice memory that they got there.

A moment later, sounds of knocking the main door interrupted her reflections. After buttoning her shirt hastily, she grabbed her sword and opened.

 

The witcher was at very first unable to discern anything. A pure and intense light dazzled her dilated pupils, adapted to the semi-darkness of the house. Clinking her eyes, adjusting them in consequence until they were only two vertical lines and giving her eyes a feline look, Moira finally could see it without suffering.

"Hello, uh ..." The man standing in front of her seemed as surprised to see her as she was about this visit.

She did not answer immediately, glancing behind him and understanding the reason for her glare. During the morning an unexpected snow shower had fallen, last burst of this dying winter celebrating the Regis and Moira surrender to each other after having protected them from the outside world these last weeks. But the jolt had already died out and a magnificent spring sun lit up the fresh snow, dazzling unprepared eyes.

"Hello, can I help you? What are you doing here? She asked.

While waiting for her answer, the man had recovered his mind and the surprise was replaced by a frowning tense face. The witcher did not fail taking note of a hand moving nervously toward his belt where a cutlass was attached.

"I could ask you the same thing? What are you doing here? This house belongs to someone, I hope for you that there is nothing missing in it. "

She looked at him, confused, noticing his signs of hostility and so tightened her hold on her sword.

He looked at her, confused, noticing her messy hair and the untidy buttoning of her shirt.

The uncomfortable situation, fortunately, did not last very long as the main door reopened behind Moira.

"Mr Geodfroy?" the stranger told, whose attention quickly left the witcher to reach the vampire or, to his own knowledge, the barber-surgeon.

"Indeed, it's me, Jonas."

The face of the latter lost the traces of suspicion to light up with a large smile before he approached and stretched his arm. Regis caught it without hesitation and hugged him in a fraternal embrace.

"Damn, don't blame me but I was afraid to never see you again! How are you? How long have you been back there? "

"This is a long story, as many others have certainly occurred in those recent troubled years. "

"Sure, no need to tell me... I'm relieved anyway." Jonas nodded, before taking a curious look at Moira.

"Moira, let me introduce Jonas, emeritus hunter of the region. Jonas, Moira is my ... friend and currently my guest. "

The moment of hesitation did not go unnoticed by the hunter and the various elements of the puzzle began to interlock in his mind. He hid as best he could a grin to address the guest:

"Excuse me for my roughness, ma'am. It's not against you, I was afraid of having to deal with any raider having looted my friend's house. "

The tension relaxed between them, and Moira was grateful.

"Don't worry, if I were you I would surely have concluded the same. "

 

Regis politely proposed to continue this conversation indoors rather than on the doorstep, in the fresh air. Moira decided to leave the two men together for a moment. Moreover, she had noticed Jonah's horse not far away and was glad to take care of it.

After leading the horse near a bucket of fresh water that it hastened to drink, she began to loosen the saddle loops.

A few weeks before she arrived, she had lost her own mare when she was attacked by a group of thugs whose favourite target was lone travellers like her.

But if they had first gloated discovering that the lone traveller was actually a woman, already imagining the potential fun in addition to the booty, they had quickly been disillusioned when she had drawn her steel sword and started using it against them.

The fight had not lasted long, with half of the men quickly losing their bravery when the other half had begun to fall under the sword blows that were raining on them, too quickly to dodge while she avoided theirs with grace and without pain - not visible at least.

Busy by the last two standing opponents who jumped at the same time on her, the concentration of the witcher wavered for a moment when the horrible neighing of her mare sounded behind her, in the night. The moment of hesitation was long enough to fail to completely evade a strike that one of the brigands unleashed with all might, risking it all. The blade slid against the reinforced part of her armour and finished its course in the ground. Repressing a groan of pain, she hasted to resume her spirits and took advantage of the imbalance of the man, turned and sliced his back as he was half fallen.

He did not get up and his last mate fled without turning back. Finally able to breathe deeply after this fight, Moira went to the last man still half alive - but not for long - who was laughing nervously not far from there, lying on the ground.

"Bitch, at least you will not take it with you" he pronounced when the witcher squatted in front of him without a word, before he choked in his blood and finally shut up, definitely this time.

But the harm had been done, she ran after her mount, easily following the trail of large patches of blood from the fight scene, and ended up finding the mare body, dagger still sunk into its side.

The loss of a horse was always a painful moment for her. A witcher's horse was more than just a regular mount. Although some of her fellows had only a limited connection with them, not hesitating to call all their mounts of the same name, many had to admit that their horse was more than an interchangeable piece.

The witchers were solitary by nature, travelling the roads without settling so the animal brought company and a waypoint in this nomadic life. At least it was how Moira saw them, remembering in particular a few ones like Keivit, her mare who had brought her some solace at a time of deep loneliness, many years earlier.

"I'll have to find a new one," she thought, sighing while flattering Jonah's mount, before turning on her heels to join the two men.

* * *

 

When she returned to the house, the two men were sitting at the table, still in the middle of a discussion. Regis, facing her, looked up and met her gaze.

They certainly needed to discuss some topics after crossing this step, but the presence of the hunter postponed it. This latter shifted slightly in his chair, feeling suddenly too much in this room. This discreet gesture attracted the attention of Moira who took the opportunity to address him rather than the other man:

"Nice horse you have there. Would you seek to sell it by any chance? "

"Oh no, sorry but I don't. I was just currently in the area to hunt, have been following a big game track for three days now. The winter has been long and the first hunt of the year is always exciting, after spending months locked up. And well, you must have realized too that the war implications are still noticeable in cities, even if the situation has improved since then." Jonah explained jovially, now that he knew there was no reason to fear her. "-Dillingen is no exception," he added finally, glancing quickly at Regis.

"Yes, I have noticed it too although, in my opinion, you do better than other cities. It is not everywhere that I find people willing to pay a substantial amount for the services of a witcher like me. "

"Bestiary creatures are not always the biggest threats. "Intervened the barber-surgeon. "-The most terrible ones are more often those that cannot be erased with a sword strike. "

"Well said," Jonas agreed. "-Besides, now that I know you're safe and sound, I have to ask you, Regis. Do you expect to return to Dillingen soon? You can come back without fear. And at the latest news, your house and shop are still there, undamaged. "

Moira held her breath and rose to lean more comfortably against the wall. The answer to this question interested her just as much, if not more than the hunter. Regis pondered the question before answering sparingly:

"As I explained to you earlier, I moved here far from civilizations to recover my strength after my ... health problems. And to escape the violence of which I have a deep horror. I suppose that since my condition has improved and that peace seems to have come back after the Nilfgaard treaty, it is conceivable that I'm going back. "

His response had a different effect on his two guests. Jonas smirked as Moira frowned. Very slightly, but he already knew her well enough to notice it. Jonah went on:

"Normally, I would encourage you to stay longer here. It is definitely not me who would brag about cities rather than wildness but .... I think Dillingen would profit the return of his barber-surgeon. The war did not take away only soldiers and besides, it seems that there is something bad in the air at the moment. I do not know what crap it is, but many people get sick. "

"Really? May you tell me more? "

Despite awaken Regis's interest in the news, the hunter did not have much additional information and he ended soon to give them. But without knowing it, his words had carried weight so that the vampire ended up :

"So this is decided, I'm going back to Dilllingen. Time to put my business in order here and prepare for my departure and I'll go, tomorrow or the day after. I can't continue indefinitely to hide here after all. "

"Can't you?" said the witcher, still leaning against the wall. She did it in a low voice, almost more for herself than for her audience so that Jonah continued the conversation:

"And you, Moira, what are you going? If I understood you correctly, you dealt with the forest road problem? It's coming back to me, I had heard about it in town. Did you finally find the beast? "

In a few words, she resumed the events and her doubts about being paid for it, so much time had passed since she had accepted the contract. Knowing the man that hired her, the hunter was able to help: this one was currently travelling to Riverwood for the horse fair, so she must certainly find him there.

He thought to please her with this piece of advice. Dillingen was at the opposite way, avoiding going to this city for nothing would save her precious time. In addition, she could directly buy a new horse at the fair. Not one of these old nags, the fair was known in the region for its young and robust animals!

But for some obscure reasons, the witcher seemed only moderately pleased with this change of plan.

 

Jonas stayed for lunch then took leave of the barber-surgeon and the witcher. When Regis closed the door, Moira was staying silently in front of one of the windows, distractedly fiddling with her cat-shaped medallion. As he approached she broke the silence, still gazing outside, while he was only two steps away from her.

"Break is over and time to go back to normal life, isn't it? I guess we could not pretend a little longer to ignore the outside world? "

She finally turned to him when he gently put his hand on her shoulder and did not fail to notice her tense smile that clearly did not reach eyes.

"No, indeed, we could not. There is a time when it is necessary to move forward." He hesitated before adding, taking care of the choice of his words:

"You knew we could not stay here forever. "

She found nothing to reply to words she had herself pronounced earlier. True, their parenthesis had already cracked when she almost left stealthily. And the arrival of the third protagonist of this story had just finished bringing them back to reality.

"Would you like to stay until I leave, or do you wish to go now? It's quite early and I think you should be able to reach Riverwood before dusk. "

She frowned at him for a moment before heading for the exit.

"I do not intend to leave before you. I ... We still have not done this walk that you offered earlier, right? "

 

Thus the last afternoon flew. Leaving behind them the place where they had learned to know and to appreciate each other, they ventured into the surrounding pine forest. The beginning of the walk took place in a silence only punctuated by the sound of their footsteps in the fresh snow. Fortunately, it was not a heavy silence as people crave and are terrified at once to talk first. No, both were rather distracted by their own reflections.

The fresh air somewhat woke her mind, bringing her questions back to the vampiric nature of Regis rather than his bond to him. But at that moment, she had no desire to dwell on it and even less to question him about it. Their time together shrank by any minute and it seemed to her that it was useless to know more about it.

For now, at least.

Turning head, she noticed that he too seemed elsewhere and wondered what he could think of at that moment. In any case, he seemed well focused and she glanced several times at him without being able to catch his attention. She veered off to her left to slowly get closer and finally put her hand in his. This time it was effective.

"I knew you less silent, is it me who occupies your thoughts?" she threw a line.

"That's the case, my dear," he replied, making eye-contact and noticing the draft of a smile she was holding back.

"-I was getting ready for the questions that you would not fail to ask me about who I am, I am sure," he resumed. "-But to my great surprise, you do not ask a single one. "

Moving her fingers to intertwine them more closely, Moira explained the reason for her silence. Regis nodded and was rather relieved. In the end, he did not particularly want to dwell on his vampiric nature. His attraction and fondness for her, though real, was really recent. Moreover, he did not doubt that if their paths crossed again the subject would necessarily come back.

This brief first exchange relaxed them and they finally could really enjoy each other presence, without discussing their impending departure. As they had done many times before, as if it was a normal day.

 

When their footsteps ended by bringing them back to the humble wooden house, this one was already half merged with the pine forest into the same dark tones of dusk.

Preceding her companion, Moira stopped when she climbed the only step and turned around. By her serious face, Regis had a bad feeling that was quickly confirmed:

"Actually, I have indeed one question about you and your nature, Regis. It bothers me. Can I? "

The vampire sighed and nodded. The question was obvious and he could answer without much fear: No, he didn't consume blood. Never again. She could be reassured and have no witcher dilemma about it. On the other hand, he hoped that she would not dig more, because if she wanted to know about his past ...

Regis could not help grabbing his belt nervously as she was about to talk. The mechanical gesture was usually reserved for his herbalist bag strap, whose pleated leather suggested the not so composed temper of its owner.

"Are you sick or hurt, Regis?  You seem so ... mmh, weary? As far as I know, the higher vampires are almost immortal, so what happened? "

He froze, kept staring at her and - a rare thing- did not seem to know what to say. She allowed herself to add, worried to have put a finger on a real problem:

"Tell me you're fine. Tell me it's not something serious."

"- It would be pretty stupid that I got infatuated with the only dying higher vampire of this world ..." she bad joked, like she used to do in this kind of tense situation.

As an answer the vampire's face- who by the way was all but dying- lightened with a broad smile. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and pulled her close to him, nestling the woman tightly in his arms.

"If I'm fine? You have only one question to ask to a mortal creature of my kind, and what you do is worry about me, about my well-being? "

Arms passed with pleasure around his chest she murmured a simple yes. Yes, it was as simple as that.

"No risk on that, Moira. I'm definitely not at my optimal health, but I feel better today than yesterday and I'll get better tomorrow. If in the future our paths cross again, you'll undoubtedly realize it. I'll still be a part of the living beings if you want to meet me again one day. "

Without taking off from him or opening eyes, she raised her head to look for his lips. He responded to her request and kissed her hurriedly but gently, wanting to convey some of his own emotions. Moira's question was the last one he expected. He was touched by her solicitude, that he knew was sincere. Caring about someone, and being care by them. Even if it was only a little, temporarily or not.

"Good. That's all that matters, "she finally concluded.

 

On the next day at the same hour, the house had returned to its usual silence, once and for all. Shutters closed, tools stored, empty chimney, it was like a sleepy animal, hibernating in its forest until the next return of its owner. And who knows, maybe also of the recent female guest?

On the next day at the same hour, Regis and Moira were on their way to their respective paths, moving away from each other at every step. The witcher mind was busy with her reward and how she would make good use of it, like preparing for the future contracts she would have to fulfil. Regis was thinking about the snippets of information concerning Dillingen, reflecting upon the potential epidemic threat.

But they both kept a little of each other in mind, as of now stowed in the background but still present somewhere. Some embers of a fire that could just as well be revived as slowly extinguish.

It was up to them to decide what would happen and even if they had abstained from any promise, both of them did not really want to let the embers fade away.

Because it was theirs and it has mattered in some ways, this unexpected warmness of winter.


End file.
